The Traits of a Murderer
by ShippingIsMyLife
Summary: Everything was pretty much perfect in your life until one day, some one tried to steal your purse. Not just someone, 2p! America. That's not a very good first impression on his part. Somehow you end up keeping in touch(read to find out how) and you begin to pick up some of his traits... His murderous traits. ((rated T for swears&violence and murder. Possible M rating later. Maybe))
1. A Normal Day With a Friend

(f/n) is Friend's name  
(y/n) is your name  
(F/L) is first and last name  
(F's F/L) is friends first and last name  
(e/c) is eye color  
(h/c) is hair color  
(a/c) is any color you choose  
((...)) Author's note

You smooth out your favorite button-up shirt immediately after you put it on. Today you were going out to lunch with your best friend, (f/n). You moved to Texas from (Hometown) with her a year ago to go to collage at Texas University. You two have been living ten minutes away from her cousins' house in an apartment near the university. This was all a part of an agreement you two made back in high school. You go to college with her in Texas and live there for a few years, and she goes to live with you in Italy for a while. Today was a special day. This was the last Saturday before the summer vacation was over and you began your second year of college.  
"Ciao, (y/n)! I've been studying extra hard lately," your friend (f/n) walks into your room, seeing that you were ready to go. Oh yeah, not to mention that she's been taking Spanish since middle school, and has just recently been taking Italian. You on the other hand, have been taking Italian for over five years, now speaking it fluently.  
"Buonjiorno, (f/n), come stai?" You reply, making sure she can still remember the basics to Italian.  
"Sto così così," she answers.  
"Why are you 'so so?'" You ask.  
"Well, I'm a little nervous. You know when you can tell when someone's gunna have a bad day?", she asks and you nod. "Well, around midnight last night, you came into my room without realizing it again, and you kept mumbling until I woke up. That always happens the night before something bad happened to me."  
"I did that, _again_?" You ask her. You still can't believe that you do these things while not remembering them.  
"Yeah, and then you walked out and went back to your room. I followed you and I found you fast asleep, as always," she says with a worried expression on her face.  
"Damn..." You breath out so she can't hear you. She always gets even more worried when you're worried too. You think of the last time that happened. It was the beginning of summer vacation on a warm day. You two were sitting outside of a nearby Italian café, drinking espresso the morning after you went into her room while unconscious. You only remember a few shouts from somewhere before the catastrophe happened. Out of nowhere, a random hokey stick flew in from somewhere on your left, and smacked right into the side of (f/n)'s head. She fell right out of her seat, and her espresso spilt on her arm, giving her burns. She had to go to the hospital for the burns and a concussion. You remember lifting the stick off of her. It was really weird. The end was covered in dried, and fresh, blood. It was also unusually heavy.  
"(y/n)? You still here, or are you in (y/n) land again?" She asks you, snapping you back to reality.  
"What'd you say?" You ask, confused. You often go ignore the outside world and go into '(y/n) land,' as (f/n) likes to call it.  
"I said, when do you want to go?" She answers.  
"Oh, now's fine. I'm all ready," you reply, grabbing your handbag from the top of your dresser. It has your wallet, apartment key, Chapstick, and other small, unimportant objects in it. Your cell phone is in your back pocket, you can't lose that. You can lose anything else, but not your phone. That had your main connection to your family on it; Skype and email.  
The two of you exit the fourth-floor apartment and head to the lobby. After reaching the lobby, you get into the passenger seat of (f/n)'s '67 Chevy Impala. ((Yes, a Supernatural reference. It's because I based the friend character off of my own friend, and we are both in that fandom)) Once she gets in, she turns on the air conditioning. You _are _in Texas, and it _is_ still summer. It's gunna be really hot. It feels really nice on your hot skin, even though the a/c hardly works. The two of you drive for about ten minutes to a nice outdoor café that you know has great food. More importantly, ice cream.  
You and (f/n) get out of the car, and she locks it. You have your handbag on your left arm, and your right arm is linked with (f/n)'s. You walk over to the last shaded table outside as someone comes out to take your order. (f/n) orders a fruit salad because they're cold and good for the summer. You decide to get (any food) because you love the taste. Someone comes back with your orders and two waters. You both thank the server and you pull the correct amount of money out of your wallet, as well as a tip.  
"I hope this makes up for the last time we went out to a café," you say, remembering the hockey stick incident a few months ago.  
"It does... Well, as long as I don't greet hurt again..." She replies, looking at her shoes and trailing off on the last sentence.  
"It's okay, you'll be fine," you reassure her with a cheery smile, then placing your purse in the side of your chair.  
"Thanks," she looks up at you, looking a little more relieved.  
There are multiple people walking around the outside area of the café. There were plenty of people because the café is near the center of a large park. The two of you chat about things like, classes, crushes, and other things. (f/n) says that she likes this one guy in her history class that sits two rows ahead of her. She begs you for your crush, but you honestly didn't like anyone around here. Sure, you've been asked out by a few attractive guys, but none of them were your type. You actually didn't have a type. You really didn't like anyone.  
As the two of you carried on about some pointless things, a pair of red, and violet eyes stared at you two. Mostly staring at your unguarded purse sitting beside you. But also looking at how you looked. You didn't seem like you could outrun them, or fight them off if you could catch them. The owner of the red eyes gave his nail-filled bat to the other person standing with him. To the person that owns a unusually heavy and blood covered hockey stick. He moves out from behind his tree and walks towards your general direction.  
Your seemingly perfect day was about to be ruined.

((Author's Note! My first 2p! fanfic. I really hope you guys like it. Please comment if you want a certain special 2p! to be Reader-Chan's ( that's you) love interest. If I don't feel like that 2p! would go well in this story, I'll make a special reader insert one-shot for you. Just remember, I love you if you read this. And please tell me if there were grammatical errors. I try my hardest to correct them. Ciao~ Writer-Chan (that's how I'm gunna end my author's notes) ))


	2. A Chase And A Bloody Nose

His red eyes glanced towards your purse as he walked closer and closer. You look like an average girl without a ton of money, but the pearl bracelet on your left hand begged to differ.

You don't take much notice to him as he gets closer. He doesn't even seem to be heading straight towards you. He's just another person having a good day at the park.

He's about ten feet away now. This man thinks you'll put up somewhat of a struggle, but thinks he'll still get away with your purse.

"So, as I was saying," you begin speaking to your friend again, "it really isn't a big deal. I mean, so what if she has a new skirt? She gets one every week."

"But it's so cute!" (f/n) replies. You two are obviously gossiping about someone at your college.

"Yeah, but what abo- Hey! Stop!" You cut your sentence short as a tanned man with dark brown, almost red hair clutches your purse and starts to run. He glances back at you to see you somewhat stunned. You weren't expecting this to happen today. Something bad was going to happen to (f/n), not you.

You comprehend what just happened and begin sprinting to him. You start to catch up soon.

'Good thing I was on the track team for a few years,' you think as you continue to gain speed. Now you're about fifteen feet from the culprit. Your (h/c) hair starts to get into your eyes, but you just shake your head a little and continue running.

You get close enough to him and jump on him. He falls forward and your purse falls two feet to the right.

"The hell?!" He exclaims, obviously shocked you caught up with him, not to mention took him down. He flips over and you get stuck between him and the earth. You try to shout for help but his hand goes straight for your mouth, muffling the sound. There's no point anyway, you followed him far away from any people. No one would have heard you.

He puts his free arm across your chest, holding down your arms as well. He then turns over and stares into your deep (e/c) eyes. He just stares at you, not speaking. You glance around, trying to find someway to escape. His body is pushing you down, and you can yell, or move your arms. You try squirming free, but he just pushes down on you more. You eventually just give up and lay there.

A drop of blood drips down on your face. He sees it and removes his arm covering you arms to touch his face. He has a bloody nose. You must've given it to him when you made him fall on his face. A sense of accomplishment fills you and you smile.

"What're you smiling for? You little asshat!" He felt your smile on his hand covering your mouth. You think you just got him mad. You smile even wider under his hand, feeling even more accomplished. You even let out a small, muffled giggle.

"Stop laughing you jerk!" He removes the hand covering your mouth to search his pockets for something to stop the bleeding.

You then move your hand and wipe off the drop of blood that landed on you earlier. His eyes immediately look to you because of your sudden movement. You just sit there, under a strange man that stole your purse, who is now tending a bloody nose you gave him, and you aren't worried at all.

"What's wrong with you?" He spits out at you. He must not like that you aren't trying to escape.

"What do you mean?" You ask in return.

"You're not running away. Why?" He replies, obviously annoyed.

"There's a large man sitting on my thighs, I can't run," you say, matter-o-factly.

"Yeah, but you're not even shouting for help. I could kill you right now if I wanted, and you're not doing anything about it," he says like its obvious. Which it is. You just don't really feel like yelling. There's no one to yell to anyway.

"Yeah, but if I yell, you'll put your hand over my mouth again. Plus there's no one to yell to," you answer.

"Hmm... Smart girl. Hey, you got anything in your purse to stop the bleeding?" He asks, pointing to his still-bloody nose.

"Oh! Uh, yeah... Lemme see," you answer, a bit confused. You don't understand how he can go from 'I'm-Gunna-Kill-You!' to 'Can-You-Please-Help-Me?' in a matter of seconds.

"Here," he says as he gets off of you and grabs your purse from a few feet away. He then hands it to you.

You begin digging through your purse, looking for the small pack of tissues you had in it. You're still utterly confused by his behavior when you find the tissues. You rip open the package, and pull out a few and begin to wipe some of the blood off of the man's face.

"Al? Hey, Al! Where are you?" A voice with an odd accent calls out from somewhere nearby.

"I'm over here, Matt!" Shouts the man that stole your purse.

'I guess his name is Al,' you think to yourself.

The man with the accent runs over to your location carrying a nail filled, blood colored bat, as well as a blood covered hockey stick. The hockey stick seems familiar from somewhere, but you can't put your finger on it. So do both of their voices, but you can't remember if you've ever heard or seen them before.

Al's nose continues to bleed as you try to make the bleeding stop. Right now you're kneeling in front of him and he's sitting in front of you. Even when he's sitting, you can easily tell that there is a half foot hight difference between you two.

"So did you get the p-" the man, who you guess is Matt, freezes in place when he notices you tending Al's nose. "Uhh, Al? What's she doing?"

"She gave me a bloody nose. Now she's fixin' it," Al replies to Matt.

"So, you got beat by a girl, eh?" Matt smirks at Al.

"I did fucking not! I was going easy on her, jackass!" Al replies, defensively.

"We gotta get home soon or Oliver's gonna flip. We weren't supposed to be stealing today," Matt tells Al, crossing his arms.

"Um, excuse me?" You pipe up.

"Yeah, babe?" Al answers.

'Babe? Really? What the hell?' You think.

"Well, I'm pretty sure my friend called the cops when you took my purse. And I haven't gone back to check on her in the past ten minutes," you say worriedly.

"Fuck," Al breathes out just as you hear police sirens coming closer.

"Damn it," Matt says as he helps al up.

"Let's go, babe," Al says as he grabs your arm and starts running. You stumble, but end up running slightly behind him.

"What?! Where are we going? Why am I coming with you?" You ask in shock as your (e/c) eyes widen.

"You're commin' with us. We can't leave any evidence laying around. That reminds me, you're not supposed to know where we're going," Al says as his pace slows and comes to a stop. He turns to you and the last thing you remember is Al lifting his arm with his bat in his hand.

((Authors note! Okay, so Al, I guess, kidnapped you. Where shall you wake up? only time will tell. And by time, i mean like less than a day. I love you Reader-Chans! Ciao~Writer-Chan))


	3. Waking in a Strange Place

Everything is dark. You can't open your eyes, but you can hear people talking somewhere far off. You must be dreaming or something. "Hey," a voice from somewhere close says apologetically. It sounds like Al from what you remember. You try to respond but nothing will come out. You just keep breathing. "I know ya can't hear this, babe, but I'm sorry," Al says, even closer to you. Then, you feel him sit on the end of the bed. "Ya know, ya look kinda cute when you're unconscious," he says sounding happier. He said that you were unconscious. Were you? Maybe you're half asleep. You do that sometimes. Or maybe you're just imagining all of this and Al's not even speaking to you. "Al~!" A voice sounds from another room. The man who called sounded British. You feel Al get up from his spot on the bed. You hear his steps go over to the door. He opens it and whisper-shouts, "Oliver! She's still sleeping! Shut yer damn mouth!" You hear a few steps walking closer to the room your in. You guess that someone's standing outside of the room, but you can't tell because everything is still dark. "Twenty-five cents." the British person, who you figure is Oliver, says. You hear the clinking of, what is most likely, a coin into a jar. "Thank you, Al." The cheery Oliver says. "Oh, and dinners done. Come out whenever you're ready," you hear Oliver turn and walk down a hallway or something. Al's doorsteps come back over to you. You can feel his presence very close to your face, staring at you. You feel him brush a strand of your (h/c) hair off of your face and to the side. "God, she'll never forgive me for this," Al whispers, then you hear him get up, turn, and walk out. Wait, forgive him for what? Isn't Al a great guy? Or was he a terrible one? You can remember running with him in the park. Or was he chasing you? Or vise versa? What happened? 'I could remember earlier, but I can't now,' you think. You're really confused. What happened to your memory? 'Wait. Let's find out what I can remember. I am (y/n). I live in Texas. I have a friend named...? Named what? Whatever, just move on,' you think. 'I go to college... somewhere around here. Umm, I... I don't think I've known Al for very long. Or is he my best friend? Damn, I don't know.' You still have almost no idea what anything is. You can't even remember your favorite color. All of the sudden, your eyes flutter open. You're momentarily blinded by the sudden change if light, but then you adjust to the world. The room is pretty dark, the only light is coming from a small lamp on the nightstand next to you. Other than that, there is no light. You can still see most of the room though. The only furniture is the bed you're laying on, a nightstand, the lamp, a chair in the corner, and a dresser near the foot of the bed. 'The dresser must not be used much,' you think to yourself as you see all the clothes on the ground. The bed has dark red sheets and an even darker red blanket on it. You notice what appears to be part of a bat sticking out of the closet on the opposite side of the room. The clothes on the ground are mostly dark colored, with the occasional white muscle shirt. 'Where am I again? Oh yeah, AL's house... I think,' you think to yourself. You them realize that if you're at Al's house, you're in someone's bed that's not yours. Maybe you're in Al's bed? You don't know. You decide to get up and walk around. You pull off the covers on too of you and put your feet on the ground. You're not wearing any shoes or jewelry. Were you before? Maybe... You turn towards the door and start tiptoeing your way over to it. You touch the cold metal handle and silently turn it. You only open the door enough to look through it with one eye. It appears that you're in a room near the en of a hallway. The door across the hall from you is closed. It's baby blue colored with a fancy written pink 'O' on it. The hall is dark. Not so dark that you can't see where you're going, but dark enough to conceal you from anyone if you back into a corner. There are voices coming from the room on the opposite end of the hallway. The room is lit and you see shadows falling into the hall. There are three... No, four. People in the lit room. The voices all have different accents. You know for sure one is Al. He's the only one that sounds American. Another is Oliver, he's definitely British. Another is Matt. He sounds Canadian you think. The last voice, who you cannot name, is French. "Maybe you should go check on the poppet, Al. She might be awake now," the voice you recognize to be Oliver says. "Yeah, okay. I'll be back," Al says. You hear a chair quietly screech against a wooden floor and. One shadow gets up from it's sitting position and starts waking to the hall. You realize that you shouldn't be up. You close the door without it making a click and run back over to the bed. Your (e/c) eyes shut once the blankets are cob prong you again. "Hey, doll? You up yet?" Al asks asks as you hear the door open. His footsteps come closer to you until you can feel him standing almost over you. He must be leaning down. His hand touches your arm and gently shakes you. "Hmm?" You say as sleepily as you can as your eyes open slightly. "Hey, babe," Al says,"dinner's done if you want some." "Where am I?" You ask in a tired voice as you shut your eyes again. "You're sleeping in my room. Wanna come into the kitchen for dinner? Everyone's waiting for you," Al replies in a sweet voice. Maybe Al is a good person. You can't really remember. Wasn't he your boyfriend? No, maybe your friend? "Hey, what happened? I can't remember anything anymore. You're Al, right?" You ask. Maybe he'd give you some answers. "Uh, how about we go into the kitchen and then I'll answer, okay?" He asks nervously. "Okay," you reply as you sit up. Your legs swing over the side of the bed and you start to stand. You lose your footing and begin to fall. "Whoa!" Al exclaims as he catches you. You feel that he is thin, but very strong. There's not a lot of muscle on him, but he could easily carry you if he had to. "T-thanks," you manage to stutter out as he lifts you back to your feet. "No problem, doll," he replies. He puts his arm around your waist and your arm around his neck. He's not much taller than you. Only about a five inch difference. He opens the door with his free hand and you two walk out together. The hallway feels a mile long because you feel nervous. Maybe the people in the kitchen are mean, or maybe they'll hate you. You always lived in fear of people not accepting you for you. That's why you always changed so much for people. The open kitchen door is just a few feet away. There are still three people in the room eating and talking. You can hear that the French one isn't talking much. Maybe he's the shy type. The British one, Oliver, is almost constantly talking. He's probably very energetic. The last one, Matt, isn't talking too much. He's mostly listening to Oliver. Al and you walk around the corner and everyone stops what they're doing to look at the two of you. 


	4. Questions and Answers

The man wearing a lot of pink and blue perks up the moment you walk into the room. "The little darling is so pretty, Al!" He says in a British accent as he turns to look at Al. You blush slightly at the kind comment. 'This one must be Oliver,' you think to yourself. "Ay, you want some food?" Matt asks you, nodding to an empty chair next to Oliver. "Uh, yeah. Thanks," you reply. Al walks you over to the two empty chairs next to each other. One plate is full and the other one is partially eaten. Al and you sit down, you next to Oliver, he is next to the man with the French accent. "We're having a vegetarian dinner tonight, dearie," Oliver smiles at you and says in a happy tone. "Thanks for the food," you say to Oliver in a quieter, less enthusiastic voice. "Oh! I almost forgot," Al begins, "This is Oliver." He points at the man on your other side. He doesn't know that you already know his name. "This is Francis." He points at the man next to him. He looks a little grubby. He has a cigarette and you don't think he's slept in a few days. "And this is my brother, Matt." "It's nice to meet you guys," you say quietly, looking around the group. "Well, what's your name, poppet?" Oliver asks you. Oh yeah, no one knows your name. Not even Al. At least you don't think he does. You still can't remember much. Wait. What is your name? Doesn't it start with a D? Or maybe an A? Oh yeah, it's (y/n). "I'm (y/n)," you answer after a moment. "It's nice to meet you, (y/n)! You can call me Ollie if you want," Oliver, or, Ollie, says with a big smile. "Okay... Ollie," you say with a small smile. He seems extremely happy that you used his nickname. He has an unnaturally big smile on his face. Now that you're looking closer, you can see freckles peeking out from behind makeup. 'Why would he want to hide them?' You think. You, personally, think that they're really adorable with his big blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. "Hey, (y/n), mind if I have a word with the guys for a minute?" Al asks you, snapping your attention away from your thoughts. "Uh, yeah. Sure," you say as you stand up. "Why don't you go back to my room until I come to get you?" Al requests more than asks. "Okay," you agree as you hard back into the hallway. You're halfway back to Al's room when you hear them start to talk. "Guys, I really need your help here. She doesn't know what happened. She can hardly remember her own name," Al says in a hushed voice. This makes you stop walking. Your eyebrows scrunch in suspicion as you turn your ear to the conversation. You take a few steps back so you're four feet away from the opening to the kitchen. "Well, her head did get hit pretty hard," you hear Matt say. Your head got hit? By what? "Shut up! Well, she can't find out what happened. You know what'll happen if she does," Al says even quieter than before. Francis 'mhmms' in agreement. "Indeed. I can't let that happen to you, Al. What will we do with the poor dear?" Oliver asks in a hush. Wait, what will happen to Al if you find out? Find out about what? Jeez, you're hopelessly confused. "I don't know!" Al sounds worried as he whispers. "We'll have to keep her here. Not let her know about anything before this happened." Before what happened? You decide to go back to Al's room before someone notices you spying on their conversation. You tiptoe to Al's room and slip in the crack between the door and he doorframe. You make your way to Al's bed and you sit down. The muffled conversation continues in the kitchen, but you can't make anything out anymore. Soon enough, you hear the voices stop, and there are footsteps in the wooden-floored hallway coming towards you. Al steps into the room and holds out a hand to you. "You have questions, right, doll?" He asks as his hand extends closer to you. You nod your head and slowly put your palm into his. He turns and you walk back down the hall. 'He makes a lot of noise when he walks,' you think, looking down at his feet. You notice that he's wearing combat boots. 'Oh,' you think as you lift your head back up. You enter the kitchen again and Al motions for you to sit back down. You do, and he sits down next to you. "So, what do you want to know, poppet?" Ollie asks in his cheery voice. "Well, how do I know you guys? And for how long? And how did I get here? Don't I go to school somewhere? Or do I have a job? Am I dating Al? Or any of you? Why does my head hurt? How come I can't remember my last name anymore? What am I doing here again? Why can't I remember anything, actually? Why are you all looking at me weird?" Your questions spill out one after another. The men in the room are giving you strange looks. Ollie is still smiling, but he's obviously stunned at all the questions. Al and Matt look really confused, and ever since you asked if you were dating Al, he's been blushing slightly. The French one, Francis, hardly changed his expression, but his eyes show his emotions. "What? Too much to ask at once?" You ask again. You had gone from very quiet and uncomfortable to loud and totally calm around these people that you don't know. Or don't think you know. Who knows? Certainly not you. "Well, uh, you and I... We know each other beca-... Hey, Oliver, why don't you answer these?" Al manages to spit out. "Okay. Well, poppet, you and I like to bake cupppycakes together. Matt and you go hiking and hunting. Francis and you sit together and, well, not talk. And you and Al are best friends, darling," Ollie answers calmly with a smile. 'Seems legit,' you think to yourself. "Ah, so I do know all of you. Where do I live?" You ask as you tilt your head to the side slightly. "Your room is the very last door in the hallway, dear. It's the one straight back," Oliver answers your question. "Oh, really? Can I go there and try to collect some memories?" You ask with a newly found smile. "Sure, babe," Al answers, using his hands to gesture you to go. You get up from your seat and walk into the hallway. You notice that your steps are like a feather in the wind compared to Al's heavy steps. You stop in front of the very last door in the hall. You look left and Al's door is next to yours. Across the hall, or to your right, is Ollie's room with the baby blue door. Your hand touches the cold doorknob leading to your room. You slowly twist the knob and walk in, leaving the door open behind you. "How did you answer those questions so calmly, Oliver?" Matt asks in a whisper, leaning over the table to Ollie. "I just thought of the extra help the sweet little poppet can give me while making my special cupppycakes," Oliver replies, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Oh, fuck no! You are NOT turning her into your cupcakes," Al whisper-shouts so you can't hear him. You're in your room, or, the spare room they had in the house, so you can't hear him anyway. "Tsk, tsk. You know not to swear, Allen. That'll be twenty five cents to the jar when we get up from the table," Oliver scolds Al for his inappropriate language. "I don't care about the stupid change, Oliver! You're not allowed to do anything to her. I shouldn't even let you be in the same room as her!" Al uses a slightly louder voice this time, standing up as he speaks. "Now, why would I do such a thing to the dear poppet? I like this girl. She called me Ollie," Oliver smiles and blushes at the fact that you are the only one to use his nickname. "You better not," Al gives him a death stare as he sits back down. "So, how're we gunna keep this secret from the girl?" Matt asks no one, yet everyone. "Just, don't let her leave. If she gets her memory back, we're screwed. She'll definitely rat us out to the cops if she does," Al replies, with a sense of seriousness in his voice. "So, keep 'er here?" Francis asks, pulling a cigarette out from his shirt pocket, then lighting it. "Exactly. I'll take care of her, but we all have to remember the lies we told her and stick to them. Maybe she'll never remember about her old life, and only have memories that we gave her," Al says. Al is definitely the leader for the solution of the problem. "So, do you like her? Is that why we're keeping her instead of killing her, Al?" Matt asks with a smirk coming across his face. "No! Don't be stupid!" Al exclaims, a small blush creeping it's way across his face. 'Well, she's not ugly... Who am I kidding? She's the most beautiful girl I've ever met. And she's not scared of me. And she helped me, even when I tried to steal from her. God, I really like her..." Al thinks. His smile must be creeping into his face, or Matt can read his mind because Matt smiles. "Ooh, Al has a crush!" Matt says in a teasing voice. "I do not!" Al protests. "Back to the topic at hand. Al, go check on the doll. She's probably getting bored looking at her room," Oliver ends the argue meant with a kind smile. Al walks out and sees your room door halfway open. He steps in and you're laying on your bed. Sleeping. He can't help but smile at the sight. Your hair falls around your face so perfectly, making you look even more beautiful than normal. "Damn, that's cute," Al whispers as he stands in the doorway to your room. He turns off the light and shuts the door. 'I'll see you on the morning, doll," Al thinks as he walks away, allowing you to rest. 


	5. Dreams, Nightmares,and Tears

You dream of the men and yourself. You're all together as a happy family. Well, sort of. They're not related, except for Al and Matt, at least you think they aren't. You're not completely sure. Well, you dreamt a about baking yummy cupcakes with Ollie, sitting outside with Francis, hunting outdoors with Matt, and going to a baseball game with Al. Then when you two got home, you were alone. You sat on the couch together for a while watching tv. Then Al said something about that moment being perfect and for some reason, you leaned in to kiss him. He was confused at first, but then leaned in as well. You bolt upright and wake up from your dream. Everything was going so great until that last moment. You don't remember anything about Al, other than that he was your best friend. At least you think he was. Oliver told you so. Maybe this dream was multiple memories that you had forgotten. Wait. That means you and Al... Were you two dating at one point? Maybe... You decide that you'll ask Al about it later. You look out the window on one side of the room and you only see darkness. Had you fallen asleep without realizing? You stand up and walk to your closed door. You slowly turn the knob, trying to make no noise. You are successful in being silent as you creep down the hall. You hear snoring coming from behind the door with a red maple leaf on it. 'It must be Matt,' you think. You don't exactly know what you're doing right now. You're just tiptoeing around the quiet house. The hallway has seven doors and two openings. One opening leading to the kitchen, the other going to a living room. You figure that the last five rooms at the end of the hall are bedrooms because all the doors, except for yours, are closed. One mystery door is opened and you see a bathroom. The other mystery door is closed, so you decide to open it. The handle is locked. There's a keyhole, you attempt to look through it. You can't see much, there's no light. But you can make out another door, except it is down a set of stairs. 'Probably the basement,' you think, 'But why's it locked?' You stand back up straight and make your way to the living room. It's quite spacious. It has a couch, a fancy looking blue chair that's probably Ollie's, a recliner, a coffee table, and a small table next to Ollie's chair. There's also a tv on the wall, a shelf of movies, and a cabinet that probably has tea stuff in it, mostly because it's slightly opened and you see tea cups and fancy china in it. You turn to start leaving the room, but you run into a body right behind you. You begin to fall, but you're caught by none other than Al. "Hey, babe, you all right?" He asks, lifting you back to your feet. "Y-yeah," you reply. You're still holing him and he's still holding you. And guess what? He's in his pajamas. What are his pajamas you ask? He's not wearing a shirt. Just pants. You realize this and immediately let go of him as your face gets red. He also realizes what is happening and his face goes equally as red as he drops his hands to his sides. "So... What're you doing up this late? It's midnight," Al says, his face still warm because of what just happened. "Uh, I had a weird dream and I had to get it out of my mind. But I think it might have been a memory that I forgot," you reply, looking up into his red eyes. "What happened?" He asks. There's something in his voice. Like he's worried about something. "Well, I made cupcakes with Ollie. I was camping and hunting with Matt. I was sitting outdoors with Francis. And I went to a baseball game with you. And..." You trail off because you didn't want to tell him about the kiss. Or, almost kiss, because you woke up before it happened. "And? What?" Al asks. He sounds like he wants-no. Needs to know. "And we... You and I... Uh, were watching tv together. Yup, that's it," you reply. You must've not sounded believable because he stands there with his arms crossed, requiring an answer. "Well, I have a question first." "Okay, shoot," he replies. "Were we ever dating? Because in my dream we kissed," you say. You can feel your cheeks get hotter and hotter so you look down to hide your face. "Uh, yeah. We were," Al replies. He sounds a little uncomfortable. "What happened?" You ask. You're now curious about your unknown past. "Well, you moved away and we decided that a long distance relationship wouldn't work out," Al says. You don't believe him. He doesn't sound very confident with his answer. You decide you'll ask Oliver about your and Al's relationship tomorrow. Ollie wouldn't lie to you. Would he? No, you feel like you can trust Ollie the most. You think that you two will be good friends. "Uh, I should probably get back to bed," you say, breaking an awkward silence. "Yeah, me too," Al answers. You two walk back through the hall to your bedrooms. You don't understand why, but you want to hug him. He makes you feel calm. Do you... Like him? You dismiss that thought as you watch him walk into his room and shut the door. You follow his example, and walk into your own room. You don't understand why, but you wish that you did something. You regret your lack of actions. You just let him walk away. You lean against your closed door and you slide down until you're sitting. You sigh and run your hand through your hair. You have no idea why you feel this way. Have you always felt this way? Was this the way you felt before you lost your memory? But more importantly, was this how Al felt as well? You get up and walk to your bed, flopping down onto it. You almost immediately fall back asleep. You regret sleeping. The innocent dreams have turned into horrible, horrible nightmares. No longer are you baking cupcakes with Oliver, no, you're tearing people apart and chopping them up. The worst part is, you're banking them into cupcakes and eating them. You're not sitting with Francis anymore. He's very intoxicated and he's smoking and doing horrible things to some random woman, so you refused to watch this part of the nightmare. You're not just camping and hunting with Matt. He's killing a poacher. Well, more like torturing a poacher. And Al. No baseball games and tv anymore. He's smashing someone's skull in with a nail filled bat. He turns to you, blood splattered all over his clothes and a bit on his face. He gets closer, then lifts his bat above your head. His bat comes whirring down until- You jump straight out of bed this time. You land on the floor, sitting up. Your face is wet with tears. Then the tears come for real. They rush from your eyes until you can hardly see anymore. You really can't believe what just happened. Your dream felt so real. And Al... He almost killed you. There is still no light, so it must still be late. Probably around three or four in the morning. You're far to scared to go back to bed. The nightmares are still haunting the back of your mind. Suddenly you can't breath, you're crying so hard. You try to keep in your gasps and cries, you fear that you might wake someone up. You did. A knock on your door proves so. "Hey, doll, are you okay?" Al's voice sounds scared and nervous. When you don't reply, he opens the door and sees you balled up on the floor, holding your knees. He moves quickly, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and whispers soothing things into your ear. You melt into his bare chest and cry into him. You can't hear him, you're just listening to his heart as you cry. You were truly afraid of the nightmare. You were afraid that Oliver, Francis, Matt, and Al were actually like that. You wanted them to be nice, and care for you. They actually probably are nice to you, you just can't remember. They're probably good people, but as before, you just cannot remember. Your bawling quiets to a small whimper here and there. You're still wrapped in Al's arms, buried into his chest. "It's okay, it's okay. You're fine. Everything's gunna be fine," Al whispers calming words into your ear until your tears completely stop flowing. Your eyes are red and your face is puffy, but you lift your head and speak Al. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Al?" You ask, your voice breaks a little from the crying. "Sure, doll," Al says as he lifts you up and carried you to his room. 


	6. Authors note

story/4531643/The-Traits-of-a-Murderer-2p-Hetalia-x-Reader/

this is is the link to the main story. More chapters get posted more often. Plus, the indenting and skipping lines aren't messed up like how they are on here.

story/4531643/The-Traits-of-a-Murderer-2p-Hetalia-x-Reader/


	7. Mornings and Clothes

Al sets you down on his bed and then lays down, himself. He is on the edge of the bed, about a foot away from you. He's facing away and trying to take up the least amount of space as possible.

'Why is he so far away? Does he not like me?' You think as you look at his back.

You make a pout face because he's not near you. You really need someone to hold right now because of that terrible nightmare.

This causes you to move up against him and wrap your arm around him. He tenses his body, but relaxes after a moment. He turns over soy out and him are facing each other.

"What are you doing, (y/n)?" Al ask with a tired voice.

"I'm scared. I need Simone to hold me," you reply. Your face is still red and puffy from crying as you look into Al's red eyes.

"Alright, babe," Al says, pulling you to his chest and closing his eyes. Your arms are at your chest, up against Al.

He seems much different that he did when you first woke up. He's kinder, and more open to you. Maybe you two still loved each other? Maybe Al and you dated a lot in the past.

You close your eyes and fall asleep listening to his heartbeat.

"Aww, take another picture, Mattie~!" You hear someone say. You're still half asleep and you can't tell exactly who it is. You think it's Ollie.

"Okay... Got it," someone, who you suspect is Matt, says.

"Isn't that just the cutest thing! They're cuddling!" Ollie says again.

"Hey, Al. Wakey, wakey," Matt says in a somewhat teasing voice.

"Mmm, five more minutes," Al says sleepily. He must be half asleep. There's muffled laughter from two people from somewhere near you.

Wait. What?

Who's in your room?! Wait! You're not in you're room!

Your eyes burst open and you try to sit up, but something's holding you down. Or should I say someone? Al is sleeping heavily, his arms tangled around your body. You take a look around you. Oliver and Matt are standing with each other. Matt has a cell phone in his hand. It's obviously filming or taking pictures. They're both stifling in their laughter.

"What's going on?" You ask, you're cheeks going pink from embarrassment.

"You should tell us," Matt replies with a smirk.

"Nothing happened!" You sit straight up, unwrapping Al's arms.

"It's okay, poppet. I believe you. Hey, I bought you some new clothes. You wear stuff like them all the time. Want to see?" Oliver changes the conversation, gesturing to the door.

"Sure, I guess," you reply, getting off the bed.

"I'll be bugging Al about last night while you two look at clothes," Matt says as he pulls the already-taken photos up on his phone.

Oliver leads you to the living room where there are a few shopping bags from various stores sitting on the floor. He sits down next to one and motions you to follow. You sit right next to him as he begins pulling out clothes.

Most of them are light colors, like pinks and blues. They definitely look like Ollie picked them out. There are some that look like he didn't pick them out. Like plain jeans and shorts, and plainly colored shirts. Some shirts are lace, some are patterned, some are floral. There are also a few dresses as well. A few sun dresses, one fancy, long, red dress, a lace peach dress, and a pink and blue frilly dress. Oliver must've picked this one out. It looks like something that he'd actually wear. Then he pulls out a cute little frilly blue apron.

"We're going to make cupppycakes later, poppet! Won't that be fun?" Ollie asks with a ton of enthusiasm.

"Of course, Ollie! That sounds great!" You reply, with a big smile. Do you even know how to make cupcakes? Well, you'll find out later.

Oliver brightens up a lot at your answer and you can tell that he's very excited to do something with you. Especially making cupcakes.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Al's voice echoes throughout the whole house. He must've seen the pictures Matt took on his phone.

"Twenty five cents, Allie!" Oliver calls to him.

"GIMME THEM!" Al yells. You hear a struggle. They must be fighting.

"You only want them because she's in them," Matt teases, emphasizing 'she.'

"Do not!" Al pushes Matt through the door and they start fighting in the hallway.

"Delete them!" Al commands as the fight moves to the living room. Ollie calmly takes your arm and moves you to his other side. Right after that, the two brothers collapse where you were sitting and start wrestling.

You can't help but to let out a laugh when you see Al struggling with his slightly larger brother.

Matt eventually pins Al to the ground. You're a little worried that they may hurt each other. You look to Ollie, who is calmly folding your clothes with a smile on his face.

'How often does this happen?' You wonder.

"Delete. The. Photos," Al commands, giving Matt a death stare. Matt, he just shakes his head as answer.

Noticing that they're too busy with each other to notice anything, you quietly stand up and walk around behind Matt. As quick as a flash, you leap onto his back, wrap your arms around his neck, your feet and legs around his middle, and snatch the cell phone out of his hand. You put him in a loose choke-hold with one arm as you delete the multiple photos.

When you get off of him, he's too stunned to fully comprehend what just happened. You walk back over to sit with Oliver, and you continue folding with him. Al is also quite shocked that you did that, but not as much as Matt. He wiggles out from under Matt and sits on the other side of you. Matt is still there, except he say up, and is now looking at you funny.

"W-what? H-h-how? You, what?" Matt stutters out in confusion. To that, you just smile a little. You are overjoyed that you confused the poor guy.

"Yeah, (y/n)'s badass," Al says, glancing over at you.

"Ahem," Oliver glares at Al as he hands him a jar of coins. Al rolls his eyes and puts a quarter in the jar. Then afterwards, there's an awkward silence in the room because you and Ollie are folding, Al's pouting, and Matt is just sitting there.

"So," you say, breaking the silence," when are we gunna bake, Ollie?" Oliver smiles when you say his nickname.

"In just a little while, poppet. Let's go put your clothes in your dresser first, okay?" Oliver responds with a smile.

You nod your head and stand up with a large pile of clothes. Oliver stands next to you carrying just as many clothes. You walk to the end of the hall and into your room. Ollie sets his pile on top of your dresser.

*Time skip brought to you by Writer-Chan's laziness *

"All done~!" Ollie exclaims with a huge grin.

"So, when do we start baking?" You inquire.

"Right now. Let's begin!" Oliver says with his unusually large smile, turning out of the room and heading to the kitchen.


	8. What's in the Basement?

Ollie runs in excitedly, with you walking in behind him. He has two matching blue aprons in his hand. The more girly, frilly one is handed to you. Oliver smiles wide when he sees you put it on. "Hey, can you tie it for me?" You ask Ollie, turning around.

"Of course, poppet!" Oliver chirps, hopping over to you. He takes the two straps and ties them into a bow on your lower back. He then puts on his apron and ties it himself.

'I need I learn how to do that,' you think to yourself. You look at his apron. It's the same color as yours, except it is stained with flour and... Red stuff? It is a brownish-red smear on the lower left side of the apron. 'It's probably just red dye,' you reassure yourself.

"Well, poppet? What's your answer?" Ollie asks you with a smile.

"Huh? Sorry, I was daydreaming," you admit; a little embarrassed.

"I asked you what kind of cuppycakes you wanted to make. We can make special cuppycakes, or we can make normal cuppycakes," Oliver says with a wide grin.

"What's the difference?" You ask, intrigued.

"Oh, nothing really. I just add one more ingredient to the special cuppycakes," he replies happily.

"Oh, well then, let's make the special ones," you say to him with a happy smile.

"Ooh, goodie!" His British voice exclaims.

You and Oliver get started on the batter. Oliver pulls flour out from a cupboard above the granite counter. You go over to the fridge and pull out a carton of eggs, then you remove two and put the rest back. You also take out a carton of milk. You set the ingredients on the kitchen table.

The two of you end up having cocoa powder, eggs, milk, sugar, salt, baking powder, and a variety of other ingredients for the cupcakes on the table. Oliver pulls out some measuring cups and spoons from a drawer under the counter. You and him make the batter in a matter of minutes, thanks to your great teamwork. He starts to put things in a bowl to make the frosting, but stops when almost everything needed is in.

He looks over to you and smile his signature big grin. "Poppet, can you finish mixing this stuff up for me?I have to go get the special ingredient for the icing from the basement," Ollie states, setting the cups on the table.

"Sure. But, why is it in the basement?" You wonder.

"That's because it has to be in a certain place or it'll go bad. The basement is perfect for it," Oliver replies in a happy tone.

"Okay, Ollie," you reply with a smile. Oliver turns and skips out of the kitchen door. You see him turn the corner and you can hear keys jingling in a keyhole.

'I wonder why he locks it...' You think to yourself. You decide to walk out and see why.

You see the door to the basement was slightly opened, and there was a sliver of dim light peaking through the crack. Your steps are slow and cautious. You're most likely not allowed in the basement, so you don't want to be caught. Ollie can't be heard from the top of the steps, he's probably on the far side of the basement.

You slowly reach for the handle of the door. The metal handle is cool to the touch. You don't turn it; it's already open, you just pull slowly. The door doesn't make a sound as it swings open. The light you seen is a single bulb, covered in dust, on the wall. You look at the stairs. They're old and wooden, and the dark green paint on them is slowly chipping away. The door at the bottom appears to be closed, and there is a small light coming from under the door.

'A candle, maybe...?' You think, noticing the light under the door wave and flicker. You tiptoe down the old steps, trying your hardest to keep quiet. All other times you have walked were so quiet, but this, is particularly complicated. The steps must have been used for many years, you can tell by how the green paint looks to be covering another paint job. But the paint under the chipped green doesn't look like paint at all. It's blotchy and horribly done. The color is a brownish-red. Is that...?

'Nah,' your mind dismisses the idea of the redness being blood. 'They're good people. I've known them for so long, haven't I?' Your mind ponders this for a moment before you continue down the stairs. The stairs creak slightly at your light steps. You can still hear nothing from the other side of the door where Ollie is. 'I wonder what's taking him so long...' You wonder.

You go down about fifteen steps before reaching the bottom. The door is painted, what was probably once white, but is now an ugly grayish((greyish, for those of you in the UK)) color. You wonder why Ollie doesn't decide to make it fabulous, painting it pink and blue with cupcakes on it. Well, he probably wants to, but just doesn't have the time. Your hand reaches out to the doorknob, still no sign of Ollie from the other side of the door.

Your hand touches an old brass knob. It had been weathered down; it is covered in scratches and dust. Only the shape of a hand around it is not filled with dust, that's where Ollie probably put his hand earlier. You turn the knob slowly...

It clicks. You push the door open slowly revealing a small room with almost nothing in it. The only furniture is a small shelf with some books that haven't been read in years on it. On top of it-it's only about three feet tall- is a candle stick in a metal holder. The small flame is making your shadow dance across the room. Your (e/c) eyes glance to the opposite side of the room where a slightly opened door resides. You can't see anything in the dark room, but you can hear... A squishing sound? Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and curiosity.

Your legs almost act on their own, and they start marching you to the door. The door is open enough so you can peek one eye in. What you see is hard to make out, your eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness quite yet. You can somewhat see a person standing in front of a table. There is a large lump of something on it, but you can't tell what it is. You decide that Ollie's probably almost done with whatever he's doing, and you know you don't want to be caught.

You turn to head upstairs but you trip over your ankle. You fall, making an 'oomph' sound. The weird noises from the room behind you stop in their tracks. You hear a shuffling of fabric, like someone's taking something off. Then footsteps walk towards you.

This is all happening so quick, you don't even have enough time to stand up properly. You only got to your knees, like in a crawling position almost.

You turn your head slowly. You know that you must be in trouble for snooping around. Your eyes look up to the person behind you. You see an odd looking Ollie. He looks... Mad. Not mad like angry, but like crazy. His bright blue irises are swirled with a few pink circles. His smile isn't sweet like normal, but insane.

A long moment of silence passes before he finally speaks. "What did you see?" He bends over and gets closer to your face, his arms are folded behind his back. His smile does not waver a bit.

"Nothing!" You spit out a little too quickly. You sounded guilty, but you were just scared.

"Are you suuuuuurre?" Ollie says as he gets extremely close to your face. If he got any closer he'd touch your cheek with his nose.

"I-I'm positive!" You stutter out. Ollie's being a little too creepy for your taste right now.

"I don't think you are, poppet," Ollie says in his British accent. He stands up straight again and walks so he is introns of you. He reaches his hand down, offering it out to you. You reluctantly accept it and you stand up.

What happens next, you could have never imagined.


	9. Don't Break Ollie's Rules

It happened too fast for you to comprehend what was going on.  
Oliver took your hand and helped you up one moment, and the next, he had pushed you back into the dark room.  
You fall back and land on your hands. Your (e/c) go wide, you still don't exactly know what's happening.  
Oliver, he just has an eery smile on his face. He lifts his hand up and waves to you as the door swings shut.  
Darkness engulfs you and you find yourself transfixed in place. Your eyes are wide and your mouth is hung open.  
Seconds feel like hours as you sit there paralyzed in the darkness. Oliver just pushed you into a pitch black room; Oliver had no lights in there with him. You are utterly confused out of your mind.  
You turn your head to glance around the room, but it's still as black as the night. You stand up slowly, and walk to the door. You try the handle.  
Locked. Of course.  
'Why wouldn't it be?' Your conscious says sarcastically.  
You turn around then lean your back on the door. A sigh leaves your mouth. You know you're stuck there until someone lets you out.  
The you notice something you haven't noticed before.  
The smell. The room has a terrible stench that makes you gag. It smells iron-ey. More importantly, it smells terribly of death.  
'Its not death you smell. It's not death you smell,' your mind keeps telling you.  
Your back straightens up and you walk a few feet forward. The smell keeps getting stronger. Your black flats step in something squishy.  
The weird substance gets in your shoes and it feels extremely uncomfortable and warm. You back up as fast as you can. You almost fall, but the door catches you.  
You drop to the floor and take off your shoes.  
Your eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and all you see is red. Red is everywhere. You now realize that it's blood. Blood is covering the floor and a bit of the walls.  
Then is when you see the sources. There are multiple bodies; most of them aren't whole. Only one body is somewhat whole, and it's on a table.  
It's appendages have been cut up, and the abdomen area is wide open. There are jars and cups surrounding it, each one filled with a different organ. The heart, brain, kidneys, liver, the eyes, and many more.  
The sight is far too much for you to handle. You can't deal with all of this blood and gore.  
"Ollie, why...?" You trail off as your eyes begin to flood with tears.  
You cry until the tears wouldn't come out anymore. You're very tired from all the crying, although it's probably been only a half hour.  
You're still sitting, so you lay your head back against the door. You close your eyes for just a moment, but you fall into a deep sleep.

*Right after Ollie shut the door on you*

~Oliver's PoV~  
I turn and go back up the stairs. I'm very upset. You weren't supposed to be a bad girl and go down there. The basement was off limits to everyone.  
'Why'd she have to go and break the rules like that?!' I think. I stomp my foot and cross my arms in frustration.  
I'm already at the top of the stairs and I shut the door and lock it.  
I hear someone walk in the front door.  
"Hey, Oliver! I'm home!" Al shouts to me.  
"I'm here, Al!" I call back to him. I'm still in the hallway. He walks in and notices me by the basement door. He must have seen a but of bit of blood on me because he seems worried.  
I may have said that no one's allowed in the basement, but I never said that they don't know what I do. They actually help get the ingredients when I can't go out.  
"Uh, Oliver. Where's (y/n)?" Al asks.  
"Oh, she's in the basement. She was being bad," I reply happily.  
"What did you do to her?!" Al yells at me. Oh, how rude! In right in front of him, there's no need to use an outdoor voice.  
"She followed me down when I told her to stay in the kitchen. She was a bad girl and she broke the rules. I locked her in my special room. I'm leaving her there for a few hours until she learns her lesson," I explain. It wasn't my fault that she was naughty. It was all hers.  
"What?! Get her out of there now!" Al shouts. He's a little quieter this time. He pushes past me and grabs the door handle.  
Aha! I locked it. I smile when I see him notice that it's locked. I have the key in my back trouser pocket.  
"Where's the key?" He demands. Why's Al being such a meanie? (Y/n) has to learn her lesson for breaking the rules.  
"I have it. But (y/n) had to learn her lesson. She must be punished for breaking my number one rule," I say calmly, crossing my arms behind me.  
"So what? She's probably flipping out down there," Al exclaims.  
"You know the rules. You break them, you are punished. And (y/n) broke a rule," I reply. Why isn't he understanding? It's quite simple, really.  
"Oliver. Please..." He puts his hand on my shoulder and looks deep into my eyes. Why does he have to do this to me?! He knows I can't say no to his puppy eyes!  
"Sorry, Al. Rules are rules," I say. It was really hard to do that though; he's so good at pulling my strings to make me say yes.  
"Fine," Al says quietly. He walks past me and goes to his room. His head is slumping forward as he walks there.  
'Oh, well now I feel bad!' I think. I turn and go back to the kitchen. I almost forgot about the cuppycakes!  
I immediately add a little of the special ingredient to the batter. Then I scoop the batter into the cupcake wrappers that are in the tray.  
I take some blood I had in a cup and add it to the icing. The white frosting turns a pretty pink and I smile in satisfaction. I mix the icing up more, making sure that the color has changed completely.  
SMASH! CRASH!  
I almost drop the tray, I jump so high. The loud noise scared me momentarily, then I realize what has happened.  
Al must've broken into the basement.  
I hurriedly set the tray on the counter next to the oven. I shout to al to stop what he's doing. I bolt out of the kitchen but stop when I hit the hallway. The basement door is smashed to bits. There are splinters everywhere.  
This enrages me. I almost leap through the door. I bound down the stairs. Just to see another broken door.

~Reader-Chan's PoV~  
You hear a big smashing noise. That jolts you from your sleep. You sit up straight and turn to face the door. You hear shouts from who is most likely Oliver and someone stomping down the stairs.  
Another smashing noise. Then you hear someone run across the room to you.  
You realize that whoever it is will probably shahs down this door as well, so you scramble off the the side.  
You see a nail-filled bat smash through the wooden door. Your (e/c) eyes widen in shock.  
You still can't tell who it is, although you hear Ollie yell something about 'breaking the rules' and 'let her finish the punishment.'  
The bat smashes through the door two more times before a person walks through.  
"Hey, babe. You all right?"


	10. Ollie's Trying to Make Everything Better

Your body acts on its own. You leap up and through yourself into his arms. Only now do you realize that it's Al because of the smell on his jacket.  
You burry your head into his chest as a river of tears floods down your cheeks. A few chocked sobs escape your mouth, but you don't want Al to know you're crying. He can probably feel all the tears absorbing into his shirt, but still.  
He pats your back gently; he leans down and whispers soothing things into your ears. Although, you can hardly tell what he's saying. You're still traumatized from what you've seen.  
Al looks up from you and realizes that you two are about two feet into the room. He knows what Oliver will do because he disobeyed and went to get you.  
He lets you go and turns back, but in that instant, Oliver shoves a rag in his face. Al tries to hold his breath in and struggle against Oliver, but he doesn't last long. Al stumbles back, almost knocking you over.  
You wipe away some of your tears, but everything is still blurry. You see Al falling back, and Ollie is standing information of you with an unusually large grin.  
Oliver reaches out to you and grabs you before you can run away. One of his hands are behind your head, the other, shoving a rag over your mouth and nose.  
You try to struggle, but to no avail. You start to go numb, then your vision blurs, and you can't hear anything anymore. Soon, everything goes black.

~Ollie's PoV~  
Poor Al and (y/n). If only they would listen to me. I had to tie the poor dears to pipes in my special room so they wouldn't escape when I go out to get things to repair the doors.  
Why'd Al have to go and be a big meanie and break the doors? He did that, AND he disobeyed me and went and got (y/n) from the basement.  
I had to go and get brand new doors. I remembered that I had one in the attic, but I had to go to the store and get two brand new ones. I got really strong ones so Al can't break them again.  
They should be awake by now. Chloroform only lasts for about ten minutes. I've been gone for over half an hour.  
I already repaired the door to my special room with the strong door from the attic. I did that right when I was done tying them up. Even if they could get out of my knots, they'd have to get through a strong door. And I even took Al's bat! Haha, I feel so clever!  
I skip down to the room before my special room where one of the doors wait to be put on. I have a screwdriver and some screws for the door hinges in my hand.  
I walk down the stairs and I reach the bottom. I hear some yelling from my special room.  
Looks like Al an (y/n) are awake.  
I hop across the room. The door can wait. I want to see Al's face. I definitely surprised him with the chloroform!  
I open the door to the room and I hop in. I brought the candle from the room before. This room can be pretty dark sometimes.  
I walk to the left wall where the pipes are and I shine the candle on them. Poor (y/n) looks so sad. I feel so bad, but she broke the rules.  
Al's face makes me giggle. He looks so angry, it's so funny!  
Al yells at me though.  
"Oliver! What the hell?! Let us go!" He shouts.  
"Allie, I can't do that. (Y/n) has seen too much, and you both broke the rules," I reply calmly.  
"Uh..." (Y/n) speaks up.  
"Yes, poppet?" I lean down to her and give her a big smile.  
"Can you please let us go? I don't want to stay here," she says with a hoarse voice. Aww, she must have been crying.  
This makes me frown. Oh, well now I'm sad! I know that I can't let them out, but I can't leave them down here. (Y/n) looks so sad. Her (e/c) eyes are glossy and around them, it's red and puffy.  
Oh, I know what I can do! I have a special recipe for this exact occasion.  
I jump up and run out of the room, shutting and locking the door before I go. I leap up the stairs and head to the kitchen.  
I notice the cupcakes that were being made. I guess well never eat them, so I might as well add the special ingredient to them.  
I reach into one of the cabinets above the sink. I reach to the very back. I have to stand on a chair because I'm too short to reach the back.  
Matt could have reached it, he's the tallest in the house. I'm the shortest, Al is a few inches taller than me and Francis is about an inch taller than him. Matt is a bit taller than him.  
I grasp what I was looking for. I pull out a jar filled with powerful sleeping pills. A few of these could knock a person out for a whole day.  
I take four out of he jar and set them on the counter.  
"I have something to break them with. It's here somewhere..." I say to myself. My nose wrinkles as I try to remember where I have my mortar and pestle.  
Oh yeah, it's in one of the cabinets under the counter. I open the one nest to the stove, and there it is, sitting near the back. I pull both pieces out and I set them on the counter next to the pills.  
I put the pills in the mortar and begin grinding them with the pestle until they are a powder.  
((A mortar and pestle: en. wiki/Mortar_and_pestle It's just from Wikipedia so it's not much))  
I dump the powder into the frosting and mix it until you can't tell I did anything to it. Then I put the frosting in the fridge and the cupcake tray gets put into the oven.

*Time skip to when the cupcakes are done brought to you by Writer-Chan's laziness*

I pull the cuppycake tray out of the oven with my oven mitts. I set the tray on top of the stove so the hot tray doesn't burn the counter top. The cupcakes have risen nicely, thanks to mine and (y/n)a great teamwork. Now I just have to put on the frosting.  
I take the bowl of icing and put most of it into a frosting bag that has a star tip. The pink frosting looks very good on the cupcakes, although I only frost two of them. They're both for (y/n), just incase the first one falls on the ground or she doesn't eat it.  
I take the two cuppycakes in my hands and walk to the basement. I had time to fix the other two doors while the cupcakes were baking, so now every door is fixed.  
I left the first two doors unlocked so I could get in easily. Plus, Francy and Mattie aren't here right now, so I don't have to worry about them.  
When I get to the room before mine, I balance both cupcakes in my left hand and I unlock the door. I then take a candle in my other hand after I put the keys back in my pocket.  
I push the door open and in the candle light I see (y/n) and Al sitting on the floor together still tied up. (Y/n) is sleeping.  
She's so cute I wish I could take a picture! She's so adorable all the time!  
Anyway, I shut the door with my foot. The slight breeze from the shutting door almost blows out my candle, but I protect the small flame. My foot steps are the only sound in the room as I near al and (y/n).  
Al looks up to me. He has hatred and disgust in his eyes. He's never looked at me that way before...  
"Al, I know how we can make (y/n) forget all about this!" I exclaim quietly because (y/n) is still sleeping.  
"Oh yeah, what?" He spits out. He sounds angry. This makes my eyes look a bit sad.  
"Have her eat one of these," I reply, showing Al the cupcakes.  
"Nuh uh, no way. I don't want to give her those. You can but I won't," Al sounds like he doesn't like my offer.  
"Fine, I'll give them to her. Just, when she falls asleep, you have to carry her to her room. And you absolutely must act as if nothing at all happened, agreed?" I ask. I Al doesn't agree to this, (y/n) may never like me again.  
Al waits a moment before replying. "Fine."  
I gently shake (y/n) awake. She bolts upright the moment I touch her and she tries to scramble away. The ropes binding her to the pipes prevent her from moving far.  
"(Y/n), dear, would you like a cuppycake? I made them myself," I say in a sweet voice.  
"No. No way, Oliver!" She says her voice is still quite hoarse, but it has gotten a little better.  
"Fine. Have it your way," I say with a straight face. It sounded a little cold, but she won't remember it anyway.  
I push my elbow into her forehead and I plug her nose. She has to open her mouth for breath, so that's when I shove one cupcake in. I pull the wrapper off as I clamp her mouth shut.  
"Now, darling, things would be much easier if you would chew your food properly," I say with a sweet smile, still holding her mouth closed.  
She obeys, but reluctantly. She sobs silently as she swallows the last bits of the cupcake. I then cut the ropes binding her with a small knife I had in my pocket.  
Her eyes widen and she gets up and start to run for the door. She doesn't make it far before she collapses like a rag doll. Aww, she's so cute when she's unconscious!  
I turn my attention back to Al, and his face looks shocked. I take my knife and I cut his ropes.  
I immediately feel a ton of force on my left cheek and I fall over. Now my cheek hurts a lot and I have to hold in my tears. I think Al punched me.  
"What was that for?" I ask him.  
"Because you're an ass," he replies, walking away.  
"But, Allie, I didn't mean to," I reply. My tears start to leave my eyes.  
"I'm taking (y/n) to her room," he states. He doesn't look at me. He's facing forward.  
"Mhmm," I reply. My tears start to flood out a lot more.  
He kneels down and lifts up (y/n) and hold her bridal style. He walks out of the room and I hear him walk up the stairs a moment later. I think I mad Allie mad...


End file.
